


Pillow Talk

by nyrcella



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Cuddling, Domestic Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Finger Sucking, Huddling For Warmth, Intercrural Sex, Non-Penetrative Sex, POV Ben Solo, Sharing a Bed, a lil non con, ben thought he was dreaming, but she was awake the entire time, just strangers sleeping in the same bed, soft reylo, touch deprived ben solo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:02:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27353167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyrcella/pseuds/nyrcella
Summary: “You’re in my bed,” he states.“Oh, sorry, I could just go—”“No, stay.”In which Ben has been living peacefully alone for years when a pretty girl stumbles into his life and begs for a shelter. There is only one bed.ON HIATUS
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 33
Kudos: 77





	Pillow Talk

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been trying to clear out my drafts instead of only starting new projects so here’s a lil soft Reylo after I saw some Paterson scenes.

**NIGHT 1**

The raindrops splatter against the window, the drumming sound coincides with the beat of his heart. It's dark and the exhaustion is taking over him. All he feels is fatigued from work — he has to be awake at 6AM everyday to open the diner and goes home at midnight. The thunder is really loud outside, booming the whole apartment too. With every flash of the lightning, he flinches a little, anticipating the loud thunder sound. 

It's a stormy winter night. 

Boots are off. Plaid shirt is also off, leaving him in his white shirt underneath. Maybe he is in need of a shower but he's not sure if he still has that bit of ounce of energy left when he walks in his bathroom. So he does his business, brushes his teeth and only wears his white shirt and boxers. 

There is one not-so-small piece of information that seems to abandon his mind for a minute when he takes in the sight before him — what's on his bed. It's hard to think when he's around her. Rey. He almost forgot that pretty girl with freckles dotted around her face Rey is staying here. 

She told him her name is Rey. Rey. That name swirled around his mind when he was working while she was upstairs, in his apartment. While he was serving his customers earlier, he still muttered out her name over and over like a prayer, afraid he might forget it. 

Afraid it was all just a dream and there was no girl in his apartment upstairs.

But there she is. It’s not just some dream or fantasy. 

"You're in my bed," he states, running his fingers through his hair. Part of him is relieved that he hasn’t stripped off or anything since he’s used to living alone.

Her doe eyes are fixated on him. She actually looks pretty adorable under the blanket, all small and her hair is all frenzy. Somehow she just fits there. "Oh, sorry. I could just go—" She makes a move, flipping the blanket when he stops her.

After all, they have never discussed the sleeping arrangement. Well, they barely had the time. "It's okay," he says with a chuckle, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "You could stay."

It is all a big coincidence that she's sleeping on the left side of the bed when he always sleeps on the right side of the bed. Maybe she notices his stuff on the nightstand, he's not exactly sure. 

"Are you sure?" she asks, sitting up and leaning against the bedpost. 

"I'm sure, Rey," he assures her. "I'll sleep on the couch." 

"No," she immediately protests, her eyes are full of fear. "Stay. Please." 

It's really hard to say no to this girl. Maybe because she's so pretty. Maybe because of her doe eyes. Maybe because of her trembling lips. But it's really hard to say no to her. 

Nervously, he gets under the blanket. The last time a pretty girl sleeps in his bed was... probably three years ago. His ex girlfriend, Bazine. So now he's just kind of clueless since this feels like an uncharted territory. They're in the same bed, just two strangers. He should just try to scoot a little farther where he could possibly fall off the next morning. 

Clearing her throat, she murmurs, "Well, good night." She slowly slides lower until she fully lies down on her back, hugging the blanket. 

So he reaches to where the switch is and turns off the light. What happens next is all seamless. It's like something else switches inside them. Her palm is suddenly on his chest and her head is burrowed in the crook of his neck where he could take in the scent of her shampoo. Minty and a little... fruity. 

"It's not that I'm afraid of the thunder sounds," she murmurs on his chest, the warm breath wafting through the fabric of his shirt. 

It has never even crossed his mind — the thought of her only being here because she's afraid of the thunderstorm. Now he feels a little dumber. 

She continues talking. "I just... I guess I hate it. And I find a hard time sleeping because of the loud sound." 

He wonders if she could feel how fast his heart is racing for her. But he just wraps his arm around her waist. Pulling her closer. "I don't want to be alone during stormy night too," he confesses. 

When Rey waltzed in his diner earlier, all wet from the rain and freezing, he found himself getting tongue tied when she asked if there's a place to stay. 

It's just... she's so beautiful, with freckles dotted around her face. It's not everyday a beautiful woman stumbles into his life, asking for a place to stay. He's not even planning to do anything to her, he genuinely wants to help the poor girl out. He's not sure what, what got her into this position, whether she was just travelling from far away with no plan on where to go, or if she's running away. She could have been a criminal, a fugitive that cops are searching for. 

But instead, he just told her to go upstairs. Which is where he lives. A studio place. With one bed. And one couch. 

He doesn't even know her. Yet there's no panic inside him. He has been so deprived of touch that he’s… he’s glad she’s here. 

She nuzzles her cheek softly, increasing the beat of his heart per second. She's soft like this, like a kitten. He's not sure, really. But she just—she just fits in his arm. Just having her here warms his stone cold heart. 

Slowly, his eyes flutter close and he starts drifting off. Not even worried if he might wake up with a knife on his throat. 

That night is the best sleep he has ever had. 

***

When he wakes up, it takes a few seconds for his brain to register that last night wasn't a dream. That there's still the same girl from last night sleeping in his bed, her drool forms on the pillow. 

It's 6am and he has to get up now to open his diner. Still, he stays for a minute, just processing everything about this. About this sleeping arrangement. She seems so content, snoring softly. 

As he starts to feel like a creep, he tears himself away from the bed, stepping into his bathroom to take a shower after taking out his attire. He doesn't want to alert the girl if she wakes up to see him in a fucking towel. 

She's still sleeping when he's done and ready to go. 

***

**NIGHT 2**

"Can I use your shower while you're here?" she asks. "Working at the diner really breaks a lot of sweat."

Right, he almost forgets that she begged him this morning if she could help him out at the diner as a way to thank him. While he was serving coffee to customers. She just followed him around like a puppy. He kept brushing her off, telling her there is no need but she's a stubborn girl. "Yeah, of course," he says. "You want me to... go somewhere else?" 

Her brows quirk into a frown. "No, don't be ridiculous. Just—just stay there." 

"Sure?" 

She nods before she grabs a towel that she hangs on top of her suitcase and enters the bathroom. 

While she's in there, he grabs his Don Quixote book, only accompanied by the reading light. This is usually his habit whenever he's not that exhausted, on the days when his diner is not so busy and employees are not so inept. 

It's bothering him how much his stomach flips, waiting for her to come out of the bathroom. She's in there, under the shower, naked. Oh god, now he's picturing her naked. He crosses his legs, hoping his dick simmers down as he focuses on the words on the page. 

But he just rereads the same sentence over and over because his mind is somewhere else. Listening to the sound of the water running in his bathroom.

When she emerges from the bathroom, she's already in her white t-shirt and leggings. He tries to play it cool though he's thinking how much she looks so beautiful with her damp hair. But he notices something else. Her lips are almost blue and her teeth are chattering. "You're shivering." 

Her cheeks flush. "Yeah, I didn't know how to... how to turn on hot water using your fancy shower." 

"Why didn't you tell me?" he muses. 

She clears her throat, crossing her arms together. "I was already naked and I didn't want to put on my shirt." 

He sighs. "You still should have told me. Now you’re shivering.”

With her arms crossed, she smiles a little. "It's fine. Can I get in the bed with my hair still wet or should I—"

Silly girl. He couldn't give a fuck as long as she's here. "Hop on," he offers, patting on the space beside him. 

In an instant movement, she quickly hops on the bed and gets under the blanket, her body still shivering. "What are you reading?" she asks, combing through her hair a little until the water drops on his bed like the tick of a clock.

"Don Quixote," he simply answers. "This man is insane." 

"I've always wanted to read something classic like that but I could only go through books by Austen or any of the Brontë sisters." 

He finally closes the book, putting it on his nightstand and paying his attention to her. "So. Books about feminism, huh? They're pretty timeless. Been about centuries and we still face their problems." At this point, he's just trying to impress her. 

All she does is nodding before she starts talking. "They are timeless. Which is actually sad because centuries later, we're still facing the problem. Sure, we could vote now but the system is still fucked up and—oh god, I'm ranting." 

It's the way her eyes light up as she rants about the system and the enthusiastic way of her delivering the speech that makes him listen intently. "No, you're right. The system is fucked up." 

Her lips twitch into a smile. 

"You're still shivering," he states when he notices her hands shaking, clutching his blanket. 

She blushes, like no one has ever paid her attention before. But he would. He wants to pay attention to every detail. "I'm good." 

He takes off his reading glasses and puts them on the nightstand before he faces her. "C’mere," he murmurs.

All of the sudden, her eyes darken, like those two words affect her deeply. "What?" she asks, her voice cracks a little. 

Can she stop being so adorable? He squints his eyes warningly. "Come here," he urges. 

Slowly, she moves closer to him, just lying down sideways beside him while facing the other way. He chuckles softly as he slips his arm under her and pulls her closer to his chest, tucking his chin over her shoulder. Spooning her. He could smell his citrus shampoo in her hair. She does feel gelid in his arm so he hopes his body heat at least helps. 

Again, she fits perfectly here, like a puzzle. "You feeling warmer now?" he asks, hoping that she's comfortable. 

"Y-yeah," she replies quietly while he rubs her arm. "Are you gonna be fine like this?"

Oh, she has no idea. "Definitely." He's careful not to have his crotch close to her because he thinks that he might be having an erection right now. Naturally.

"Your heartbeat is fast," she comments. 

Shit. "That obvious?" he asks. 

"It's okay," she murmurs. "Mine is beating fast too." Then she surprises him by grabbing his hand and placing it on her chest. "Do you feel that?" 

He could. It's hammering against his palm, matching his heartbeat. "Yeah." 

Since her cheek is resting on his bicep, he could sort of feel her smiling. "Good night, Ben." 

"Good night, Rey," he whispers.

Lulled by the sound of her hushed breathing and the wind outside, he falls asleep with the scent of her in his nose like it's the most natural thing. 

*** 

**NIGHT 3**

His friends came over uninvited and they had a last minute game night, playing board games while drinking beer with the red cups like they were still in college. He was pissed at first that they didn't call because he hadn't told them that he had a girl staying here. While Rey was in the kitchen, he kept convincing his friends that she's just... 

Someone who needs a place to stay. 

That's all. 

But they still flashed inquisitive eyes on her and Rey. But Rey was a natural around them, sipping her beer as she beat them in Monopoly. And the whole time, he was staring at her in awe before Poe slapped his back so he could chill. 

"Strangers, my ass," Poe teased. 

He slapped the back of Poe's head, earning an "ow!" from him. 

While part of him is guilty, part of him is relieved that there's someone to help him cleaning up the apartment with him after his friends left. Rey is picking up the red cups while he cleans up the board game. Then he throws out the trash before he comes back to his apartment, relieved that they manage to clean the place in a short amount of time. 

Maybe it's nice. Having someone here. He has always been alone all his life. He's 35, just focusing on his work, barely has time to date. Well, he _does_ have the time. He just doesn't use that time to date. 

You know, go out on a date, maybe just hang out at the bar, whatever. 

He doesn't _want_ to do all that. 

Plus, he barely socialises. 

It's all natural as she climbs on his bed and just rests her head on his arm after she brushed her teeth. "Your friends are great," she says, her chin on his chest. 

"They can be," he snorts.

She laughs. "You know I never asked you this... would anyone mind that I sleep in your bed?" 

He frowns. "Why would they?" 

"Maybe because they're dating you?" 

Now he feels stupid. She's asking if he's taken, of course. "No. I'm not dating anyone." 

"Good," she blurts out. He squints his eyes at her. "I mean, I know this is just sleeping, there's nothing going on. But I wouldn't want my boyfriend to sleep with someone else, even if it's just platonic." 

"Platonic," he echoes teasingly. "Are we friends?" 

A coy look displays on her pretty face as she smirks at him. "Cuddling besties, maybe?" 

Cuddling besties. He lets out a small laugh at the silly term, nodding. "Cuddling besties sounds nice."

From this proximity, with the moonlight from his window, he could sort of see the colour of her eyes. They're kind of green right now with yellow around the pupils. They’re so beautiful, they just rope him in. "Thank you,” she says before he makes a fool out of himself like telling her she has beautiful eyes.

"For what?" he asks distractedly.

"For trusting me and letting me stay,” she answers succinctly.

That really thaws his heart. "I don't know what I'm thinking,” he jokes. 

She snorts, rolling her eyes. 

"How about you though?" he asks. "Is anyone going to hunt me for letting you sleep with me?" 

Heaving a sigh, she shakes her head. "No. No one." 

*** 

**NIGHT 4**

He thinks this is getting out of control, that maybe he should sleep on the couch this time. He comes home late today because it's the weekend and he was at the bar earlier, killing time as always with some beer and football on TV. What he finds as he reaches his bed is adorable — the sight of sleeping Rey clutching the sheet on the space of where he usually sleeps. Like she has been waiting for him. Her lips are parted a little, drool dripping out. 

Not wanting to alert her with his movement, he changes into his usual white shirt and pyjama bottom, grabbing an extra blanket from his closet to bring towards the couch. It's a little difficult to fit himself, his feet are out of arm of the couch while he lies on his back. Staring at the ceiling, he tries to catch some sleep when he hears the floor creaking. 

It's Rey, half asleep and groggy as she strides towards him. Her hair is all mussed adorably. He's about to ask what's wrong when she just crawls on top of his chest like he's part of the couch because there's barely any space, startling him a little. Now she's just on top of him, tucking her cheek in the crook of his neck, soft snores emitted her lips like a personal lullaby reserved just for him. 

He's just not really used to this.

One of her arms and her legs are dangling out of the couch while she just sprawls on top of him. Just like that. 

So, he guesses that she doesn't want to sleep alone. 

"Don't go," she mumbles, her raspy voice reverberating his chest. "You're not getting away from me." 

For something that sounds so threatening, she sure makes it sound endearing. So he snakes his arms around her, pressing his lips on the crown of her head. There's a little pool of drool seeping in his t-shirt thanks to her, but he doesn't mind one bit. 

*** 

**NIGHT 5**

"Tell me about yourself," she suddenly asks, her cheek is on her own pillow this time while she looks at him. He's also mirroring her position, staring at her with his cheek on his own pillow. 

"What, like you're interviewing me for a job?" he muses. 

She rolls her eyes. "Just... Why are you still single? I mean, since we're sleeping together now — _literally_ — I thought maybe I want to find out a little about you."

It's the way they're talking in hushed tones in bed that makes it all feel a little intimate. But he still humours her anyway, trying his best to open up. He hums a little, careful with his words he's choosing. "So out of everything you need to know about me, it's why I'm single?" he teases. 

All he intends is to make her blush a little. Maybe. Just crack her open. But she's undefeated, just squinting her eyes at him. "Tell me," she demands.

The ferocity that she exudes is charming, to say the least. "Well, I simply don't have the time to date, I guess." 

She looks at him like he's bullshitting, infiltrating his soul with her eyes. "Come on." Grabbing the pillow that acts as their boulder between them, she smacks him with it, inducing a laughter and an 'ow!' out of him. 

"It's true!" he argues, squeezing his eyes shut. "You wounded me, miss. So violent." 

She snorts, poking his cheek with her finger. "That's the lie you choose?"

As a way of protecting himself, he draws the pillow that she just used to hit him and hugs it close. There's a beacon of amusement on the corner of her lips. And in her eyes. Those eyes that seem so green right now, with specks of gold, even though the only light that's slanting them is the moonlight. "I'm simply busy with the diner, Rey, I'm serious." 

Her eyes are dancing curiosity, just staring at him. Maybe searching for the lie, although there's only truth. Finally she surrenders. "Is the diner yours?" 

"Yeah," he replies. "My parents wanted me to take a business major so I could take over their company. But I prefer just investing in a small diner and, well, here I am." 

She hums, her hand reaches towards his cheek, which startles him a little. She just does whatever she wants and he loves that, feeling her fingertip tracing the moles of his face. "You're so pretty." 

Out of all words to describe him, she just has to choose pretty huh. That would be the word he describes about her. Pretty. Adorable. Beautiful. Maybe... sexy. "Maybe you need to get your eyes checked, sweetheart." 

Her cheeks redden at that, being called sweetheart. Ah, so she also has a weak spot. "No I don't."

"Now let me ask _you_ a question," he says instead, changing the subject. "What are you doing here?" 

"Where? In your bed?" she teases. 

"Here. With me." 

All she does is heave a sigh. 

But he keeps pushing her, barrelling an answer out of her. "Are you running away from somewhere? Someone?" 

"It's nothing," she argues. "I'm gonna sleep." She turns the other way around, her back facing him. "Night." 

He's not sure what possesses him to do what he does next — sliding closer to her and circling his arm around her. Goodness, she's so tiny. "I'm sorry I offended you," he murmurs in her ear. He's pretty sure she's shuddering right now. Maybe his stubbles tickle her neck a little. "I'm just... I'm curious, you know?" 

"Do you _want_ me to go away?" she huffs in an accusing tone. "I can, you know, I'll just pack my bag tomorrow and find somewhere else to stay. I'm sorry I'm bothering you."

That sounds like she's sulking. She sounds so small like this but he has the notion that she can easily kick his ass. He hauls her closer to his chest. "No," he protests. "Stay. Please." 

She places her hand on his hand that's resting on her stomach. "I won't be offended if you want me to go. You're right. I just... I made myself welcome." 

He interlaces their fingers together, heaving a deep sigh. "I like having you here." 

"Yeah?" she asks tenderly.

"I've always been lonely," he confesses. "You being here changed that." 

She exhales through her nose. Her body slowly relaxes in his arm. For a moment, he thinks she feels the same way too. "Me too. I've always... I've always felt so alone." 

How can that feel so personal to him? It hits him in the gut. "You're not alone." 

For a while, there's just silence. She doesn't say anything so he assumes she has already fallen asleep. But then... "Neither are you." 

He smiles as he loses his consciousness, nose burrowed in her hair. No sleep could compare to sleeping beside her.

*** 

**NIGHT 6**

Her eyes are mischievous as she brings a slice of pie she brought from his diner to his bed after turning on the TV. Like she’s testing him. She sits with her legs crossed, the plate of pie is on her lap. Actually, on her ankles. “Hi.” 

He unbuttons his plaid shirt, leaving him in his white shirt. “You can’t eat in my bed,” he chides, giving her a warning look. 

“But what if we share?” she asks, batting her lashes. She brings a forkful of the apple pie in her mouth, swaying her shoulders in giddiness. “Mm, this is so good.” 

Placing his shirt on the armrest of the couch, he plops down on his bed. “You’re gonna leave crumbs.” 

She just ignores him. Instead, she presses some buttons on the TV and plays Will & Grace on Netflix, using his account. 

He sighs, sliding backwards until his back meets the pillow. “Alright, give me some.” 

That’s when she finally cranes her head to him, grinning. She scoots backwards as well so she could be closer to him, bringing the plate with her. 

As he’s about to dive in the pie, she lifts the plate up, out of his reach. He frowns at her. “Thought we’re sharing?” 

“We are,” she retorts. She cuts some with the fork and surprises him when she guides the fork towards his mouth. 

He looks at her in disbelief. “What are you doing?” 

“Eat,” she commands. 

“Uh—” 

But she takes that opportunity of his parted lips and shoves the pie in his mouth. He’s, well, he’s baffled, but he’s quick to close his mouth between the fork and chews it after she draws the fork out of his mouth. He glowers at her as he swallows down the pie. 

It’s kind of hard to be mad at her when she’s smiling like that. “Good?” 

“Mean,” he snaps. 

She giggles a little before taking some for herself. 

Little by little, she visibly relaxes beside him, the warmth of her body radiates his arm. She coughs a laugh a couple of times at some scenes in the show. At times, she laughs liberally, the sound fills the walls of his apartment before she clears her throat when she’s aware that she has a company. 

But he doesn’t mind though. Especially because her laugh is adorable. 

When all there’s left on the plate is crumbs, she hops off the bed to clean the dish while he turns off the TV. 

After she’s done, she goes and sits cross legged style, facing him. He straightens himself up, mirroring her position and now they’re just facing each other like they’re having a staring contest moment. 

“Give me your hand,” she says. 

He cocks his brows at her demanding tone. “Why?” he asks sceptically. 

She narrows her eyes pointedly at him. “Come on.” 

With a sigh, he lets her take his hand. Frowning a little, she traces the lines on his palm with her fingertip. It tickles a little because of how gentle she traces, he could feel the hairs on his nape go up. “What, are you reading my future?” he jokes. 

She just seems so rapted by his palm, her lips pursing slightly. “Hmm, your palm tells you that you will never stop wearing plaid shirts.” 

That makes him snort with laughter, shaking his head. “Is it now?” 

Her eyes darted up to him, giving him a playful look. She just hums, conceding. “Well, that’s what I read,” she sings before she lets go of his hand.

Well, the print of her fingertips still linger though. He still feels the tingling. 

"Maybe I'm intruding, but, I'm curious too," he ponders. 

Her elbow rests on her thigh as she cups her chin to look at him. "What are you curious about?" 

"How are you still single," he answers teasingly. "I mean, you asked me yesterday. I'm kind of, you know, curious too." Because she's beautiful. She cuddles. She cooks sometimes. There was a time when she cooked risotto, telling him that this is the only piece of home she misses. 

She snorts, straightening herself up and tapping her knee. "I'm not sure if it's appropriate." 

"Oh, sorry." 

"No, I mean, I'm not sure if you want to know." 

Oh now he's dying to know. "You could tell me." 

"I give up on dating." She shrugs. "Most guys... with their pride, they want to be more than enough, you know? They want to be able to feel good about themselves. Even when they're selfish, they still... they want that validation." 

He frowns at how vague her answer is. "You're losing me." 

The hesitancy is visibly noticeable on her face. She seems so small now as she slowly exposes her vulnerability. "I always have a hard time getting off, okay?" she admits with flushed cheeks, taking him by surprise. "They could never make me come. At first they're all patient, you know. They're like, _'it's okay, maybe you're not ready yet.'_ " 

It's not the confession that surprises him the most. It's that she trusts him enough. Or maybe she gets so frustrated, she has to get it off her chest. "You shouldn't feel guilty about that. It's... it's your body." 

She offers him a genuine appreciative smile, nodding her head. "I know. It's still frustrating though. Sometimes I'm the one who leaves because there's nothing left. Sexual chemistry is pretty important, in a way. I don't know. I just... I kind of still feel like I owe them."

It has only been, what, a week since he met her? Yet his chest aches at her confession, wanting to chase away all the pain she has to endure. He knows she can take care of herself, but he still wants to give her a big hug and just... wrap her like a burrito. Anything so she only knows peace and happiness. 

Her small hand circles around his wrist, pressing her cold lips on his pulse, sending frisson all over the nerve of his body. "I knew I could trust my heart when I stumbled upon your diner." 

His brows cock up. "What did your heart say?" 

"That you're secretly my guardian angel in disguise," she murmurs. Instead of waiting for his answer, she drops his hand and cocoons herself under his comforter, facing the other way. He shakes his head with a smile, turning off the light before he spoons her. 

***

It feels warm — no, it's _scalding._ And soft. So he revels in it, the comfort and the warmth. His nose nuzzles on something soft and he's so far the point of no return. He relinquishes in the heavenly scent wafting in his nose, so good that he could feel in his throat. It's addictive, he could almost taste on his tongue. 

Maybe it's Rey. It feels like Rey. This is definitely a dream, he knows it. He wants to keep dwelling in this state of mind, this dream. He finds relief for his erection, just rubbing his cock around something. In his dream, it's the globe of her ass. He shudders, nipping her skin. 

"I bet I could make you come," he thinks emanates his lips as he sighs in her neck, grimacing slightly.

The response feels a little too real. A gasp. Body trembling. An incoherent sentence that he can't exactly make out. 

He slips in deeper into the dream where there's only darkness. 

*** 

**NIGHT 7**

The whole day, she has been so distant. It worries him a lot, wondering if he has done anything wrong. When he woke up this morning — at 6 fucking AM — she was already gone and opened the diner herself. When he wanted to talk, she seemed so out of it, avoiding his eyes. 

He thinks she's definitely not going to sleep in his bed tonight. He's ready to settle himself on the couch after he steps out of his bathroom. As he takes some of his pillows, Rey — who's watching TV in bed — speaks up. "Where are you going?" she asks. She's not covering her legs with the blanket and it seems like she's only wearing a t-shirt even though he knows she's wearing shorts. 

"Um, couch," he replies pathetically, feeling incredibly stupid. "I'm sleeping on the couch." 

"Why?" 

"Uh..." he mutters, scratching his nape. "Thought you need some... space." 

"Stay," she pleads softly, looking up at him. "Please?" 

Who could say no to that face? Those doe eyes? That’s the only invitation he needs as he places the pillow back on the bed and sits down—at the very opposite end of the bed. He doesn't want to scare her or anything so he puts as much distance between them as possible. 

"What are you doing?" 

His brows cock up. "Whatever do you mean?" he asks innocently. 

"Scoot in," she says, amused. "Why are you so far away?" 

He shrugs on his pillow. "I don't know." 

She shakes her head. "Come back here, you big doofus." 

"Who are you calling me big doofus?" he asks with an offended look as he shifts closer to her, but still keeps two feet distance between them. Being called a big doofus by this girl is... well, cute. 

"Because you _are_ a big doofus." 

"Am I now?" he asks, attempting to sound as threatening as he could, a plan forming in his mind. 

Her eyes darken like she's affected by his tone. But not in fear. Something else. Something... sexy. "The biggest of all." 

Oh, so this girl is trying to tease him. 

Instinct taking over his body as he tackles her, his fingers poking around her ribs. She immediately screams and guffaws, trying to get away as she rolls in the bed, her legs swinging around. "Call me a doofus again, I dare you," he warns jokingly, the mattress dipped from his knees as he keeps tickling her. He's not sure what possesses him to do so. Rey makes him more... well, he feels more youthful and... 

Alive. 

Her head lolls to the back as she shrieks and laughs, her hands catching his wrists yet he's still ruthless. "Oh my god. Oh my god, Ben— _hahaha_ —oh my god stop it!" She throws fits and coughs a little. "I take it back—oh," she lets out endless streams of giggles, still trying to yank his hands away to no avail, her legs kicking on the bed. "I surrender, I surrender!" 

At some point, he's straddling her hips, not stopping his merciless attack on her. She whines and wheezes, waving white flag. 

When he finally stops, she pants, pushing her hair away. "Sorry," he says with a chuckle, his cheeks all flushed from how much energy he spent on her. The tendrils of her hair are all over her face as she blows them off, making him smile. 

Even through the curtain of her hair, she still manages to glower at him. "God, you're so strong, I probably have bruises at this point." 

His eyes seem to darken at that, imagination running wild as he thinks about what it would be like to fuck her so hard, she would bruise. He hasn't been with anyone in a long time and having her here wouldn't give him the time to, well, take care of himself. Which makes his life a living hell, having her here but not being able to... do anything. 

Just, not only to— _for_ her, but to himself too. 

To be honest, he’s proud of his self control. 

Since he's distracted, she takes the opportunity to call revenge on him, somehow managing to flip him to the back so she could torture him. By tickling him. "Shit!" he blurts out when she commences an onslaught on him with her delicate fingers, searching for all his weak spots. He writhes under her, fully aware that he could actually easily flip her back so he could be the one on top. 

But he lets her, he lets her win and now he's so ticklish and so dying, he almost peed. "Rey, please!" he groans with a chuckle, waiting until she stops but she doesn’t. 

She looms over him, knees on each side of his torso, sitting on his gut. "Now we're even," she taunts, a smug look visible on her pretty face when she’s done. Her hair is casted to the side, all tousled and messy yet gorgeous. Just when he thinks she’s going to get off of him now, she grabs his wrists and circles her hands around them, bringing them to the top of his head. 

Trapping him. 

What exactly is she planning? 

There is a determination in her eyes, like she has decided what she wants to do in her mind. She leans closer and his stomach flips at the anticipation, waiting for her… to kiss him? But then her lips just hover his, her warm breath wafting his lips. “You don’t remember?” she asks demurely. 

What exactly can he remember when she’s so close to him and their lips almost touch? It’s difficult to think right now because all he wants is to close their distance and kiss her like there’s no tomorrow. His gaze traces her freckles on her cheeks and her nose, his heart pounding against his ribcage. 

Her ass scoots backwards, to where his crotch is, taking him by surprise. “You don’t?” she repeats. 

A groan emerges from his lips, his hands meet the skin of her bare thigh as he squeezes it. “Rey,” he chokes. “Please.” Please, what? Please stop? Please tell him what he forgot? He’s hoping she knows how heavy his plea is, that he has so many questions in his head right now though it’s all clouded with lust. 

The cryptic words don’t end there. “How much do you want to bet?” 

He makes a throaty sound, wrists still trapped in her little hands while their breaths mingle together from the close proximity. 

“How much do you want to bet that you could make me come?” she dares sultrily. 

His brows knitted together in confusion. It sounds familiar but again, he’s too aroused between having her straddling him and talking about making her come that he just couldn’t even form a thought. So all he’s able to come up with is a groggy “ _hnnngh_?” 

She worries her lip, her palms run along his chest. “Come on. Make me come.”

Mustering all his self control that he’s able, he attempts his best to construct a coherent sentence. “Where is this coming from, sweetheart?” Even though she’s strong, he manages to release his hands from hers. He pulls himself up until he’s in a sitting position, putting his hand on the bed to steady himself. 

An audible gasp escapes her mouth at his sudden movement to break from her trap, staring up at him. Now she’s just sitting in his lap, her hands clutching his shirt tightly. “What are you doing?” 

“Asking you a question,” he answers lazily, feeling her quivering. “Where is this coming from? Is it your confession last night?” 

The confusion is visible on her face before something seems to hit her. “You don’t remember?” she squeaks.

Look at those scattered dots of her freckles. He almost loses his trail of thoughts. “What am I supposed to remember?” That’s when it hits him. 

_How much do you want to bet?_

Avoiding his eyes all day.

_Make me come._

It wasn’t a dream. He was really feeling her up. The realisation dawns upon him like a bucket of ice water splashing on his face. “Fuck. I—I did that?” 

“Hmm?” she mumbles distractedly. 

“I was—I was dreaming and—” he stammers.

“I was there,” she finishes the sentence for him. “I thought you were… I actually didn’t mind but… I thought it was a little cocky of you to think you’re able to… you know, make me come. All these guys keep telling me that and—”

He gently gets herself off of his lap before he rubs his palms all over his face in regret. “I’m so sorry, Rey, I was… shit, I was—you must be _really_ scared—” 

“I wasn’t,” she protests. 

“I’m sorry, it was completely accidental and I understand, I’m just a stranger to you—” 

But then she cuts him off by cupping his cheeks and placing her soft lips on his, eliciting a throaty noise out of him. His brain where he thinks just stops functioning and he’s only able to feel. The warm pillowy lips of hers, caressing his over and over. After little strokes, she finally settled on sucking his lower lip while he just freezes like an idiot. 

Her kiss, her skin on his, her body, they calescent him like the sun. It takes him some time to process what’s going on. 

Because her lips are on his. 

He finally manages to move, but only to wrap his hand around her wrist this time. But yet he couldn’t seem to move his lips yet. It’s kind of difficult to grasp the reality that this is _actually_ happening. 

When she slowly breaks their kiss apart, her eyes are shy and uncertain as they look up at him. There it is, that notion of her vulnerability. Maybe he’s silently hoping that she’s putting her guard down for him, though he’s not sure if he deserves that. Slowly, she starts smiling up at him, showcasing those dimples on her cheeks. 

He runs his fingers through her hair and pulls her closer to kiss her with more intensity than the previous, giving her his all. This time, she crawls up his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. That catches him off guard, though he recovers quickly when he kisses her back with equal intensity. 

The moment he parts his lips, she doesn’t hesitate to stick her tongue inside. Her fingers card through his hair almost soothingly. He sighs in the kiss, his tongue prodding hers. It has been too long and it feels really good and fuck, he wants her so bad. 

She yanks the hem of his t-shirt and navigates his arms so they’re out of the sleeves. She tugs it up, their lips having to separate from each other when she pulls the shirt over his head and throws it on the floor. Leaving him in only his sweatpants. Her hands find their way on his pecs, causing him to shudder slightly. 

One thing led to another, he’s lying down and she’s on top of him. 

She proceeds to nibble his lower lip while he just lies helplessly, latching her hip. “Mmm, I love your lips,” she murmurs like it’s a secret, her tongue swiping along his lips once more. 

“I love you,” he blurts out. 

In a flash, she tears herself away from him like he’s a plague and frowns at him, propping her elbows on his chest. He immediately feels the absence of her and longs for her again. 

Panic arises inside him as he tries to bring her back towards him. Of course it’s too soon to just fall in love with someone. He doesn’t even say that to his parents and here he blurts it out to some girl he has just known for like a week. “I mean, your face. You know. I love looking at you.” 

But she’s not just some girl, is she? 

Doubt is still written all over her face but she still goes back to kissing him on the jaw this time. The kisses trail higher to his ear, which is his insecurity. But she takes it in her mouth and it turns him on a lot that he starts moaning embarrassingly. She’s really taking things slow, just indulging in him and he lets her. 

He kind of feels… pampered. 

Time feels so slow, like the world only revolves around them right now. 

Then she whispers in his ear, “I’m gonna get myself off on you, okay?” 

Blood rushes down to his cock and now his cock swells. He thinks he’s saying something but he’s not sure, it sounds incoherent. But it seems like she takes it as an encouragement, sliding her butt backwards to where his crotch is. He almost chokes.

“Can I use you?” she asks. 

He nods, gulping. “Yeah.” _Oh god, oh god, oh god._

“It might take some time.” 

“That’s completely fine.” It is _not_ completely fine. He’s not going to last very long.

She smiles down at him, pecking his lips. “Thank you.”

_No, thank_ you. 

She straightens herself up, properly positioning herself so she could straddle him on the apex of his body. Watching him, she slides his sweatpants down and tugs his cock out of his briefs. 

With her small hand. 

Her cold hand. 

He chokes a little, clutching her thighs to stop himself from coming yet. It’s just… again, it has been too long and her hand is so small compared to his cock and she sighs, looking at him like that. He shudders under her. 

Gently, she shushes him. “It’s okay,” she says, stroking him up and down. He’s so fucking hard, so desperate. He watches as she takes off her pants and now she’s only wearing her t-shirt and underwear. “You’re… you’re so…” She doesn’t finish her sentence. 

Skimming her panties to the side, she presses her soaked pussy lips along the base of his cock on his stomach. There is a hint of the trimmed of her pussy. He sucks a deep breath, trembling underneath her. Her pussy feels all hot. So hot. All slicked. Soft. He pants slightly, groaning. “Shit,” he cusses. 

She bites her lip as she begins rolling her hips, her cunt grinding against him. His breath hitches when she does so, his free hand clutching the bedsheet. With each grind, she pries her cunt open along his cock. “I’m just gonna get myself off,” she tells him tersely. “Nothing else. No strings attached.” 

This should be enough for him. More than enough for him, having a beautiful woman on top of him while he refrains himself from touching her. It doesn’t dim his hope though which is so foolish of him. 

“You okay?” she asks breathlessly, arching her back until he could see her perky nipples. She has her hand on his knee, rocking her hips languidly. 

“Mmhmm,” he manages to croak out, refraining himself from drawing a moan out. “Y-You feel good.” So good. So hot. 

It’s even more difficult to regain his control when he watches her neck looking pretty long as she throws her head to the back and her wavy hair cascading down her shoulders. Her chest rises and falls with each heave of her breath. Her stomach tightens with each time she grinds against him. 

Heat blooms all over him, especially his face. She feels scorching hot now but he barely breaks a sweat. Feverish, maybe. She’s getting even wetter now, sliding smoothly. He hears the squelching sound and he looks down to see his pre cum beading on the head of his cock. Her pussy looks glistening and all swollen and his mouth feels so fucking dry. 

This is driving him insane. A good kind of insane. “Can you come like this?” he grits out, flexing his fists. Raspiness trickles down his voice, even his mouth feels all dry. He can’t look away, his gaze is just fixated on her. He doesn’t even _want_ to blink. 

Her tits jiggle before him, small yet so pretty. He could see a couple of moles around her tits. Three freckles on her left boob. They’re cute and _really_ distracting.

“Fuck yes,” she sighs, high pitched and thick. “Just keep looking at me like that and keep holding my thigh.”

As she wishes. He lets her use him how she wants, anything so she could get off. When he digs his nails in her thigh, she sobs, picking up the pace. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs. 

There is a glow on her face, illuminating the whole room. She grabs his hand that was resting on the bedsheet and kisses his palm tentatively. As she stares at him, she shoves his thumb inside her mouth, sucking it eagerly. He’s pretty sure he twitches under her, imagining what that mouth could do. His breath quickens into short pants, never keeping his eyes off of her. 

_Mine,_ he thinks. She’s his, and he’s hers, he knows that. He’s not sure how long she’s going to stay but he’s already gone for her. 

“So beautiful,” he keens out loud. 

Her skin burns his palm, igniting every cell of his body. She never stops sucking his thumb—all eager and enthusiastic. Just to test her, he presses his thumb on the roof of her mouth and she doesn’t even gag. She circles her hand around his wrist, taking his middle and ring fingers inside her mouth. 

Fuck, her mouth is so small that she barely takes two of his fingers. 

She releases his fingers out of her mouth, sucking his thumb one last time before she leads his thumb to where her clit is. She’s close, he thinks. He’s not sure but he really hopes she gets there. Not for him, but for her. Soft gasps escape her mouth, her eyes half closed. 

He keeps rubbing her clit, circling and flicking. Her hands reach up to her breasts, cupping and kneading and fuck, this is really the most erotic thing that he has ever experienced and he doesn’t mind dying like this. 

“Oh!” she hiccups, eyes still half closed while she caresses her pussy lips along his shaft. “Oh god! You feel so good.” 

“Rey,” he rasps, so close to just lifting her up and sinking her down on his cock. 

She keeps massaging her breasts, humping his cock almost weakly. So he helps her out, moving her himself while his thumb is still on her clit. The friction ignites more heat between their sexes and he’s so inebriated by all this feeling. 

It’s all odd, how this feels much more erotic than when penetration is involved. It feels like high school all over, already horny from just touching. Maybe because of how simulated this all feels. The sound of their slicked sexes and their intertwined moans fill his apartment and he knows this is forever ingrained in his mind. All this will haunt his dreams at night. 

The need for her is burning inside him. He can’t stop watching her, he just can’t, like a car crash. He’s just so mesmerised by the sight. This woman is an art, a goddess, venus itself probably. He wishes he could memorise her like this. Straddling on his cock while palming her breasts, lips parted, hair to the side. 

Fuck, he’s so high on this.

She looks so powerful on top of him and he would let her, he would let her ruin him. 

“Oh, I’m gonna come!” she cries out. “I’m gonna—” 

“Go on, baby,” he urges, shaking underneath her because he feels like coming too. He’s shaking vigorously, really on the edge, “Are you gonna come?” 

She sobs, nodding fervently. “Please!” 

Oh fuck, oh thank fuck. He presses his thumb on the nub, coaxing an orgasm out of her. She really is close, he feels her tremors. Her shudders. Her voice is getting louder and louder, panting. And, oh her cheeks. So flushed. 

And then she does, she lets go, gushing all over his cock as she screams out his name. Her cum is hot against his cock and his skin. He still tries not to come, just keeping his eyes on her while she rides her high down. 

When she finally calms down, he spurts his hot spends all over his chest, muttering obscenities as the euphoria sets in. He immediately apologises to her for coming, still shuddering under her. But she watches him in awe, her gaze trails lower to where his cum is. 

Determination flashes her eyes when she looks at his cum. With a coy smile, she leans down, leaning herself lower until his cock is on her stomach instead. She catches his cum with her tongue on his sternum. He shivers, groaning softly at the feel of her tongue darting around the taut of his chest. “Rey…” he murmurs. 

“Shh, I’m cleaning you up,” she says, swirling her tongue around his nipple. He clutched her thigh tightly, knowing full well that his cock is hard against her clothed stomach again. She cleans him up thoroughly, though she lingers a little longer around his nipples. Then she kisses his mouth, letting him taste himself.

It’s salty. Just… fucking weird, but nice since it’s from her sweet lips.

“Thank you,” she murmurs. 

He hums. “What for?” 

“For letting me use you.” She takes his lower lip between her teeth. “I haven’t come that hard before.” 

“I barely did anything,” he says with a frown.

She just beams at him, pecking his nose this time. “You did.” She rolls herself until she’s by his side, tucking herself in his arm. “Good night, Ben.” 

He reaches to turn off the light at the nightstand. “Good night, sweetheart.” He pulls up his briefs and sweatpants, letting her cum stay there as a reminder for the morning. When he’s about to kiss her, she just turns her head, resting her cheek on his shoulder. 

It’s okay. One step at a time.

Even if he doesn’t know a lot of things about her and they’ve only met just a week ago, somehow he still feels like he knows her all his life. She has already made home in his heart whether she knows it or not. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please kindly tell me how you feel about this fic. It’s one of the few times I make an extra effort to write because I’m usually a lazy writer who still wants to write anyway. ♥️

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ch4rliebarbers).


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